Stay With Me

Have a listen to the new Eliza Carty, only until May 5th though. I am not overly enamoured of Ms Carty as a rule, but this one surprised me; it is a bit of alright.

I'm listening to the radio 6 Guy Garvey show again, chuffin good stuff.

I heard some Labour berk trying to insult the nations intelligence on radio 4 this morning, by claiming that the local election results were not a disaster, and I was almost driven to anger; the fools are so complacent it is impossible to have any sympathy with them, and Boris winning the London election is just plain hilarious: the pillocks who have voted for him deserve everything they have got coming.

Here in South East Wales, Labour has lost control in Torfaen, Blaenau Gwent and Merthyr. This is astonishing, and, I have to admit, welcome. I am pretty intimately acquainted with two of those constituencies, and I cannot begin to tell you how badly Labour must have screwed up to lose them. I have long despaired of the poor excuse for democracy we have in Britain and more particularly, in this corner of it. I had believed that there was absolutely no chance of Labour ever losing. Labour believed that too, and to reuse my word of the day, they became filled with a despicable complacency.

These valleys towns are characterised by poverty. Poverty seems to be etched into the very landscape, and penetrates deep into the soul in some towns, and, along with poverty and deprivation come all the side effects: poor health, blighted lives, zero self esteem. Large parts of the population live their lives in a state of quiet desperation and exhibit a sullen belief that their particular hand has been played, and it is a poor one. They become resentful and they become wretched. Labour, locally, has had years to address these problems, Labour, nationally, has had years to help the locals address them, but travel around these towns and tell me if you see any hope.

I travel across three South Wales valleys every day, not just along the main arterial routes, but in all the little veins that criss cross the place, and, mostly, I see despair. Labour, nationally and locally should be ashamed of itself and I truly rejoice that it has had a severe kick in the arse. It won't change anything though.

Not that I want the bastard Tories in, oh no, I'm not an idiot. I hope the fact that so many Tories have got in across the nation wakes a few people up, and makes them realise that they cannot mess about, or they will suffer. Not that I have any faith in the great voting public to actually understand what they are doing when they lick their pencil and carefully place their cross against the name of their chosen candidate.

Anyway, their are more serious matters to concern us. The Blues. If we lose tomorrow we are fucked, and I almost hope we do lose, so that the misery will be over, but I cannot help but cling to the barmy and irrational hope that we can actually win our last two games and stay up. A true triumph of hope over experience. Mind you if we win our last two, and Wigan lose theirs, which is feasible, they will go down and I will piss myself. Whatever happens, I am beside myself with joy that Bruce went and Eck came in. In terms of complacency, Bruce makes one of those delightful individuals off the apprentice or a Blair Babe look as if they spend their days wracked with self doubt.